Miss Independent
by lacksubstance
Summary: AU Santana is a bartender at a gay bar. All she knows about Quinn Fabray is that she's rude, sarcastic, and independent, so if she's all of that, why is she so attracted to her? TWO-SHOT!
1. Miss Indepedent

Title: Miss Independent

Pairing: Santana/Quinn

Summary: AU Santana is a bartender at a gay bar and Quinn comes in fairly often, orders the same thing, but something about her has Santana drawn to her, but she can't quite figure it out because Quinn doesn't give her the time of day.

**Dedicated to Drew because he's awesome and knows how to keep me in check!**

**x.x.x.x.x**

The club was blazing. Lights flickering so frequently that it could cause a seizure. The DJ working tonight was prone to those kinds of lighting and music that works with it, but the crowd loved it. Saturday night was Lesbians Night, now it didn't mean that men couldn't come in, but majority of the crowd will most likely be interested in vagina. Santana certainly didn't mind though—it was her favorite night, because she got hit on numerous amounts and got large tips, so it wasn't all bad.

She threw out beers in all directions, sliding them down the bar top, while shaking her hips slightly—she's Latina after all, so hip action was her specialty, plus it brought in the leering and lingering eyes that she wanted. A few of the girls, who were a little too butch for her liking eyed her up and down like she was a piece of meat and granted she wanted that, but for their money—nothing more. Then again, people would question her motives as being borderline prostitution, at least that's what Puckerman said, but since she doesn't sleep with any of them for the money, that method can be considered false.

Suddenly a girl pushes her way through them—definitely not butch at all. Hair that's cut shoulder length, heels, makeup; everything she likes and more. She slides her way on the stool, making sure her dress doesn't rise enough to give anyone a show. She's now caused heads to turn with the shine in her blonde hair and pale complexion visible. She looks independent and untamable—she clearly didn't give a fuck and would easily give a whirl of sarcasm at any passer who crossed her—at least that's how Santana saw it and she had to admit; she was attracted.

Santana made her way to the end of the bar and leaned over—the blonde could easily get a full view of Santana's cleavage, but she certainly didn't seem to even pay attention nor care. "Suffering Bastard to start," she told Santana, without a please or even an ounce of friendliness—straight to the point. Santana did all she could do and nod sheepishly and walk off to retrieve the drink.

Mixing it she watched from her end curiously as a girl came up and approached her with a beer in hand, trying her best to crack the blonde. She noticed the female smirk at the girl and respond, and it must have been sarcastic because the girl with the beer quickly walked away. Santana poured the drink in the glass and walked back to the beautiful blonde and placed it in front of her.

"Can I get you anything else?" Santana asked politely as the blonde took a sip of it. After swallowing the contents, she looked up at her and pointed to the drink.

"There's not enough liquor in this," she instructs to Santana, who just crossed her arms over the bar and leaned closer to the blonde.

"If I put anymore in there, you'll be drunk after the first one," she responds, before she shrugs.

"You don't know how much liquor I can handle," the blonde spats back, before Santana breaths out her laughter. She may be attracted to this sort of thing, but she couldn't seem to figure out why she would be. This girl is rude and she's just trying to help her so she's not taken advantage of.

"Oh I am so sorry Miss—," Santana stops, since she's never caught the smug blonde's name.

"Quinn Fabray," she huffs.

"Well Miss Fabray, I am actually helping you. See with your size and height ratio, you probably can't hold more liquor than I could and I for one, wouldn't even dare go through The Bastard Trilogy," Santana interjects, making Quinn smirk and sip it some more until the entire drink is gone. Santana's eyes widen as the entire glass is completely drained of its contents. Quinn places it back on the bar top and smiles devilishly.

"Dying Bastard next," she hisses and Santana took it almost seductively, but she didn't dare cross Quinn to find out otherwise. So she nodded with a shrug, and walked away with her empty glass, to mix the next one.

As she poured the ingredients into the mixer, Kurt, another bartender comes up to her and bumps her playfully. "Packed night with your fellow Lebenses," he comments, pouring a beer out of the keg and she nods distracted. "What's going on?" He adds, clearly concerned. She begins to shake the shaker and stares up at him, before pouring it in the tall glass.

"That girl over there," she points over to Quinn. "She's trying the Bastard Trilogy and seems to think that I suck at making drinks because apparently there wasn't enough liquor in her last one," she explains to him, making him smirk.

"She sounds like a snooty brat to me—certainly dresses like one. Don't worry about her, I'm sure her lady will be here soon," He responds placing the beer on the bar to the costumer in front of him.

"Yeah with that attitude, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't have one," she grumbles loud enough for him to hear as she makes the glass all pretty.

"Oh please, that's what you're attracted to though. Remember Rachel? She was more dramatic than I am," he laughs. "Maybe this is sexual frustration for you, so if that is the case then go get her," he adds, before slapping her ass. She yelped—she always hated when he did that and if he wasn't gay, she would beat him up for it.

She walked back to Quinn and placed the drink on bar in front of her. Quinn glanced at it and grabbed it instantly. "Why are you here by yourself?" Santana asked curiously and rather blunt. Quinn placed the drink down and smirked—she knew the smug comment was to follow.

"Why are you so engrossed in my business?" She asked her, crossing her arms over the bar. Santana shook her and smirked, then leaned closer to her level. A few more inches and she'd be right at her lips and how Santana wished she could close that gap that seemed so large.

"You think you can be smug and sarcastic towards me, and I'll just walk away? Please, you'll have to try harder than that. I've been with girls like you in my life, more times than I can count. All you're doing is fueling the desires honey," she states loud enough for Quinn to hear. She noticed the gulp that was issued by Quinn and her smirk only widened as she pulled away from the blonde, and walked off, smiling even wider.

**x.x.x.x.x**

Friday night. Another busy one at that, but Santana never complained and why should she, she still got tipped well even though mostly gay men entered the establishment—Santana loved this night as much as Saturday because she got to make fun of Kurt when a hot guy would flirt with him. He never knew what to do with himself because he was terrible at being sexy, so just being able to see him trip over himself was well worth it.

She filled as many orders as possible, before she got bumped, knowing it was Kurt because it seemed to be his signature move when she was working. "Look who showed up," he tells her, pointing in the direction towards the end of the bar. Her eyes followed and landed on a blonde, who wore a tightly fitted skirt that rose just under her bust, with a white blouse. Needless to say it complimented every bit of her curves, but Santana recognized her instantly—it was Quinn and she seemed to be eyeing her.

Santana met her eyes from down at the other end of the bar and Quinn curled her finger up and motioned for her to come towards her—and whether the motion was meant to be seductive was beyond Santana, but she couldn't seem to advert her mind to believe otherwise. She stalked her way over to the blonde and leaned on the crystal neon bar.

"Back for more," Santana commented, making Quinn eye her with a smirk—another smug comment she presumed would follow; just a matter of time.

"I'm not gay," she tells Santana, as if that was something Santana should know nor care about. Santana shrugged it off like it didn't matter, because in reality it didn't to her. She knew she could get any girl she wanted that walked into this bar, gay or straight, so Quinn wasn't someone that would be any different.

"You do know you're in a gay bar, right?" She asked, making Quinn look around frantically—eyes widen in horror, then her mouth gapped open in shock.

"Oh my God, am I? Holy shit!" She responded sarcastically, earning a breathed out laugh from Santana, only to have her smile and laugh along with her. "I'm strangely here for you. For some outlandish reason, I kept thinking about you throughout the week," she added in complete seriousness. Santana eyed her curiously, wondering what she could possibly be thinking about her for.

"No one has ever talked back to me before—it really took me aback. It just got me thinking, 'where the hell has this girl been all my life?'" She yelled over the music at it got louder. Santana was seeing where this was leading and she really wanted to jump on it before Quinn got the chance to, and being the independent woman Quinn Fabray was—she was going to be around the bush before she gets to her point.

"I get off at one," Santana comments, before Quinn looked down, smirking, pulling a little posted note and pen out of her purse—because you never know when you'll need to write your address down for someone. Quinn hands it to her, before sliding off the barstool and walking through the crowd. Santana's eyes lingered at every curve of her hips and butt, as it moved almost in slow motion before she was out of sight.

"Oh Santana, what are you getting yourself in to?" She spoke to herself as her eyes casted upon the handwriting, before placing it in her pocket and walking off to fill more orders.

**x.x.x.x.x**

Pulling up in her used, paint chipped, car, Santana scans the building through her passenger window. Clearly Quinn is doing well for herself—whatever it is she does for a living. She didn't really mind nor care what she did, otherwise she'd ask her and at any rate, Quinn clearly dressed well enough for the Latina to know whatever her job was, it was important. She sighed and pulled the door open and shut it, having to use her hip to close the door all the way because the door was having problems closing, and made her way through the sliding door.

She pressed the button in the elevator and it slowly rose floor after floor, until hitting twelve with a ding. She walked through it almost cautiously, making sure to not go in the wrong direction of her condo. She stepped towards the right and down a few paces, before stopping at condo number 1225. She took a deep breath and started to reconsider knocking. She's never done this before—she's thought about it, but to actually do this was something out of her comfort zone, but as she was about to knock, the door began to move slightly—it was already cracked open. She glanced down both ends of the hall in utter confusion before stepping in.

Santana peeked into the condo—it was very immaculate, unlike her dinky apartment. She had a flat screen television and dark wood cabinets in her kitchen along with marble counter tops. She scanned the condo a little longer before, deciding to make herself known. "Uh Quinn?" She called, shutting the door quietly, before she passed the master bedroom and spotted Quinn laying on the bed, with her comforter over her.

"Hi," she breathed out to the blonde, before she saw Quinn grin and slip the comforter off to reveal her absolutely nude body grazing the sheets. Santana's eyes widened and her head arches back. Not to say that Quinn's body was hideous or anything remotely close to that, in fact her body was absolutely perfect—stunning even. Santana was just shocked by her action.

"Wow," Santana breathed out before laughing slightly to hide her slight embarrassment. Quinn smiled, before motioning for Santana to come towards her and like she was hypnotized she obliged. Quinn slid to the front and made her way on her knees as Santana stood at the foot of her bed, slowly sliding her hands up Santana's stomach to her chest, pulling her jacket off her arms.

Santana bites her bottom lip, before Quinn pulls at the hem of her shirt to pull it off, leaving her clad in her bra and jeans. Quinn scans her body, rubbing her hands over her stomach, placing light kisses on her shoulder, then pulling her hands back around her body. She clutched tightly to Santana's backside, causing a slight yelp to form in her throat, before pulling her on top of her nude body.

Santana takes this time to capture the blonde's lips full force, pulling herself down, wrapping Quinn's legs tightly around hers, pushing her further on the bed. Santana lowered her lips down to Quinn's pulse point, making sure to pay special attention to it. Quinn groaned and her throat pulsated against her lips. Tightening her grip to Santana's frame, Quinn slipped the straps of Santana's bra off her shoulders, before Santana pulled away quickly to unclasp the fabric and toss it away.

She tugged at Santana's jeans, huffing at them for not coming off as easily as she'd like them to. "Take them off," she demands, breathing heavily before she pushed Santana off her aggressively. She hopped on top of her and tugged at the button and unzipped them, before pulling both her pants and underwear off herself before Santana could even get a chance. She threw them off to the side hard, before kissing and biting Santana's skin on her stomach.

Santana moaned just as Quinn attacked her lips hungrily, grinding her hips into Santana, causing her to issue another moan. "I could've taken them off myself, you know," Santana commented into her lips, only to have Quinn push Santana down on the bed forcefully and take her bottom lip between her teeth, and nipping on it somewhat hard, but not enough to break skin.

"You were taking too long for my liking. Now shut up and fuck me," she responded breathlessly, before Santana flipped them over and pushed her down just as forcefully as she was being, again shocking the blonde, but she never faltered. Santana licked the vanilla like flesh, down the valley between her breasts, to her navel, circling around her belly button. She made small kisses, making sure to add nips to mark her on her inner thigh with a trail to what really mattered most.

It was evident, where Santana was going to Quinn, but this is exactly what Quinn wanted and in no way was she going to stop her, so with a pull on both of her legs over the Latina's shoulders, Santana gave her core a hard firm lick, enticing a whimper to escape her lips. "You're so hot," Santana breathed out against the nub, causing her lips to vibrate against it.

"Santana fuck," she groaned out, raising her hips up to buck them into her face—if Santana wasn't going to do it willingly, she was going to make her. Santana pulled away for a moment with an epiphany—how did Quinn know her name? She didn't recall her asking nor did she even introduce herself. "Santana! Focus damn it!" Quinn snapped her back to reality. Quinn was clearly needy, but Santana somehow didn't mind this.

"How did you know my name?" Santana finally asked curiously. Quinn lifted her head with an irritated expression. Why the hell was she asking this now? In the middle of this, suppose to be amazing, sensual moment?

"You have a nametag, now please get on with it," Quinn gritted through her teeth. Santana was slightly worried about her temper. Perhaps it's been fueled by the lack of sex she receives. Sexual frustration can really do that to a person and that's just sad in Santana's mind.

Santana dove back in though, like requested and continued to assault the nub and her core with her tongue and fingers. She knew that once she got over the initial shock that Quinn actually took the time to look at her nametag in the club, this would be fantastic for Quinn and she was right. Quinn was issuing moans and groans in all different alcoves and it only aroused Santana more and more, before she heard Quinn scream loudly and pull a wad of her hair before her body slowly began to spasm as she rode out her orgasm. Santana knew full well that this was only a hookup and nothing more. She wasn't expecting anything less from the blonde, so it was alright.

She knew Quinn was attractive, but she was successful and had a major controlling and attitude problem, so even if Quinn did want more from Santana, she knew she was out of her league. Santana is a bartender and whatever Quinn did for a living it certainly paid better than a drink mixer. As she laid next to blonde and saw her eyes close, she knew for a fact that Quinn was much better off without her.

**x.x.x.x.x **

Saturday morning. Santana laid comfortably in a pillow top bed. Even though she wasn't awake she knew this was definitely not her bed—her bed was in no way shape or form this comfortable. Next to her was completely empty and the room was rather silent, until Quinn emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body. Santana instantly caught her eye as she let a slight snore escape her, making Quinn laugh slightly and shake her head at the sight, before grabbing clothes off the floor and throwing pieces of them at Santana.

Santana groaned slightly, before another piece hit her. "Get up," Quinn demanded as she walked around to her closet. By this time, Santana's eyes are squinted, watching the blonde pull some work appropriate clothes off their respective hangers.

"It's eight in the morning on a Saturday, why the hell are you up so early?" Santana croaked in a groggy tone, as Quinn comes out fixing her breasts in a fresh bra and pulls the clothes on.

"I have to go to work," she tells her, placing her skirt on.

"But it's Saturday," Santana repeats, causing Quinn to sigh heavily and stop to stare at the Latina. "Who works on a Saturday?"

Giving the Latina a dumbfounded look, she points to her. "You do," she states, going back into the bathroom to place some light makeup on to hide the fact that she didn't get a whole lot of sleep the night before for obvious reasons.

Santana sighed and got up finally, walking into the bathroom, spotting the blonde putting eyeliner on. She yawns and leans against the doorframe for a moment. "But that's different. I'm a bartender and you're a—well we've never gotten to that," Santana waves off with a smirk, looking at Quinn's reaction in the mirror, which turned to a smirk and she nodded off slightly, knowing Santana was right.

"I'm in marketing," she mumbles, placing the eyeliner away and adding light cover up on her cheeks with blush, before walking past the Latina, who seemed to be baffled by her occupation. Why would she want to be involved with a bartender, knowing that she made way more money than she was ever capable of making?

"I'm obviously not in marketing, but even I know they have weekends off," she states, following Quinn out of the room to see her placing her heels on. Quinn tosses Santana her bra and shirt almost to hint that she needed to be ready to get out around when she's ready.

"If I'm going to make partner, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it happens, including working on weekends. Now if you'll hurry up and get ready, so I can leave that'd be fantastic," she tells her firmly as if she's her boss and since they are in her condo, in a way she is. Santana eyes her for a moment, before she decides to change back in her clothes. Weirdly enough, all she could think about was she was being a lot nicer to her than she was before—what changed?


	2. I Hate How Much I Need You

_Final chapter. Enjoy and let me know what you think. :) (**lacksubstance . tumblr . com**)  
><em>

Saturday night. Santana is at her post behind the bar, like always filling endless orders. Nothing seemed to change. She still swayed her hips to the music and she still got big tips. As she did this, she glanced up to see a customer in front of her. She had long brown hair, piercing blue eyes and very full lips. She was leaning over the bar, trying to get her attention and she certainly did indeed. Santana got closer to her and leaned over towards her so she could hear her order.

"I need a Vodka and Coke and your phone number," she told her, causing Santana to take a step back and laugh slightly. The girl flashed her, what seemed to be a thousand watt smile, and all Santana could do is return it. Santana turned away though, not sure how to respond to that. She just wanted to fill her order and let her move along. Not to say this girl wasn't beautiful because she certainly was, but to hookup two times in one weekend with two different girls is just too much for her.

When she turned around to give the drink to the girl, someone instantly caught her eye. Next to the brunette, that is. Santana gulped slightly and placed the drink down for the girl and with a flirtatious thank you; she paid and left her number on a napkin, then walked off.

"Someone wants a piece of ass," they said folding their hands on the bar. Santana looked over at her and shook her head.

"Sounds like someone else I know," Santana spat back, making her laugh. "You just gonna sit there or are you gonna order something?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Just get me some Malibu and Sprite," she tells her, causing Santana to walk off and make her drink. Not too long after she came back with a glass with a tiny straw placed in it. She placed it in front of her and the girl instantly took it and sipped it.

"There's not enough Malibu in this," she tells Santana, placing it back on the bar. Santana shakes her head infuriated by her. This is the second time she said her drink is basically shit. She gives her a smug smirk and Santana purses her lips out, letting her nostrils flare.

"You're infuriating," she hisses to her, walking off, leaving the blonde to chuckle and take more sips of her drink.

**x.x.x.x.x **

The door opens and slams shut, two bodies move at a frantic pace. Quinn pushes Santana against the wall, pulling her jacket off and tossing it away carelessly, letting it land on the bar. Santana grabbed Quinn, pushing her back to the wall that's parallel and with a grunt Quinn hit it. Santana attacked her neck, nipping at the flesh, enticing a moan from the blonde. Santana lifted Quinn up against the wall, pushing harder against it, as Quinn pulled Santana's lips back to her own. She played with the hem of her V neck, pulling it off and tossing it away.

Quinn wrapped her legs around Santana's waist as Santana pulled at the blouse she was wearing, ripping it apart as the buttons broke apart. She knew she'd probably get yelled at for that later, but she could carless. Santana pulled it off and tossed it away, hauling her away from the wall and carrying her into the bedroom. Santana dropped Quinn on the bed, hearing the springs react to the action, slipping her skirt off her smooth legs.

Santana crawled on top of her and captured her lips with her own again, moving her hands over her covered breasts, kneading them, causing Quinn to moan into her mouth. Santana rocked her hips into Quinn, pushing Quinn over the edge. She flipped them over, straddling Santana's hips. She bit down on her bottom lip, unbuttoning her pants and sliding them down easily, along with her panties. She takes in the entire scene before her. Last night, it was just Santana doing things to her and now she felt like it was her turn, but she'd never tell Santana that.

She laid down on top of Santana and pulled her legs apart. Santana licked her lips, staring up at her with so much want and absolute lust. Santana slipped Quinn's panties down and grabbed hold of her butt, pulling her closer to her, causing the blonde to groan out. Quinn trailed her hand down and slipped her fingers into Santana, causing her to arch her back and grind her hips into them. Santana managed to slip her hand between them and slide her own into Quinn, enticing Quinn to rock her hips at the same motion as Santana.

"Mm Quinn," she moaned loudly, using her other hand to dig her fingers into Quinn's back. Santana curled her fingers in her core, allowing Quinn to scream out and with each thrust and pump made from each girl; the pitches in their voices would range from high to low. The bucking of their hips began to speed up as they pumped harder into one another. Quinn felt herself about ready to combust, forcing her to bite down on Santana's shoulder and shut her eyes tightly. Santana moaned out at the sight and warmth that coated her fingers as she let her ride out her orgasm as she soon followed behind.

Quinn collapsed next to Santana, breathing heavily. She turned over to see Santana staring up at the ceiling, trying to come down from her high. Both of their chests were heaving and small beads of sweat drenched them.

Feeling a pair of eyes, Santana turned her head to look over at the blonde next to her. Quinn looked down and licked her lips, then back up at the Latina next to her. "How do you not have someone?" Santana finally spoke to her, making Quinn shrug it off.

"I'm better off alone," she tells her, turning over on her back to stare up at the ceiling—to avoid anymore eye contact with Santana.

"What's this then?" Santana asked, motioning between her and Quinn. This is the second time in two days that they've had sex and they barely know one another. All they did know was that they were attracted to the physical attributes that they carry.

"Work is stressful and I guess you can call this whole thing a stress reliever," Quinn tells her, turning her head to look at Santana, hoping she'll take the proposition she's offering. They just have sex and nothing more because each one knows they'll need their release, probably Quinn more than Santana, but still.

"So basically using each other for the other's benefit?" Santana clarified and Quinn nodded.

"If we're both okay with it, I don't see why this couldn't happen," she shrugged, and in way Quinn was right. Santana wasn't seeing anybody nor did she plan to and even if she found a girl she wanted to get involved with, she could just cut ties with Quinn and Quinn would be fine with it because she said so herself, she's better off alone and she is alone.

Santana finally sighed and nodded. "Okay," she tells her, holding her hand out to Quinn, who just smirked and took it. "Nice doing business with you," she added, making the blonde laugh and agree.

**x.x.x.x.x**

_Four months later…_

The sun showed brightly through the white curtainsof the Fabray condo. Santana laid sleeping soundly in her comfortable bed and next to her Quinn laid close to her, resting her head on her chest, sleeping just as peacefully. These past few months, this has been the same routine for them. On the weekends, and sometimes the weekdays, Quinn would call Santana over or meet her at the bar and they'd come back to the condo and have a night of sex—needless to say, Quinn felt very relieved of her stress every time she entered the enterprise she worked at. Even her co workers said she seemed more at ease, although she'd never tell them why. Not for the fact that Santana's a female and they're fucking each other, but because she didn't need them to know about her personal life.

The alarm sounded and Quinn rolled over and hit it, yawning, then turning over to see Santana still sleeping peacefully—she can pretty much sleep through everything unless you bothered her enough.

"Santana, get up," she told her tiredly, hitting her arm, causing the Latina to groan. "C'mon I got to get ready for work. You better be awake by the time I get out of the shower," she tells her, getting out of the bed as Santana opens her eyes, letting them follow Quinn until she finally disappeared into the bathroom.

She yawned and stretched, rubbing the tiredness out of her eyes, and got out of the bed, pulling clothes out of a drawer. She had some clothes at her condo—people would find that weird, but since she was over so often, they compromised that it was necessary.

Santana heard the water turn off and Quinn soon emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, with her hair still wet. She made her way into the closet and pulled some clothes off the hangers and began getting dressed as Santana did the same, not speaking about anything. This was usual for them since their agreement was to not speak about feelings—not that either one knew if the other had any. And to not cuddle, but that was soon thrown out when they woke up that morning.

"We aren't supposed to cuddle," Quinn told her, pulling her underwear and bra on as Santana looked up at her, confused.

"I didn't cuddle up to you," she told her, as Quinn met her eyes to see her confusion.

Quinn nodded. "Um yeah you did. I woke up with your arm around me," she argued back, enticing Santana to laugh and shake her head, then cross her arms over her chest.

"How does that even make sense that _I_ cuddled up to you? Sounds like _you_ cuddled up to me," she told her with a knowing smile. Quinn's eyes widened at the gesture, making her shake her head.

"No," she simply stated, before walking into the bathroom, making Santana laugh slightly. She knew full well that she won that one and it bothered the shit out of Quinn. But this was how their—well relationship was. They pissed each other off, but still managed to come back for more.

Both of them were finally ready and Quinn grabbed her purse, placing her phone into the pocket and Santana leaned against the wall outside in the hall, waiting for her. Usually she leaves right before Quinn does, but this time she just decided to stay a little longer—it's not like she had anywhere else to go.

Quinn walked out and locked the door, glancing up to see Santana standing there. "Why are you still here?" She asked, looking back at the lock before locking it. She pulled the key out and walked past her, causing Santana to follow in suit.

"I thought we could have breakfast or something," she shrugged, forcing Quinn to stop her stride and look at her, blinking a few times in disbelief.

She began shaking her head. "No," she pursed her lips out and walked off towards the elevator as Santana followed her.

"Why?" She asked as Quinn sighed deeply and glanced over at her. She shook her head and laughs slightly.

"That's not a part of the agreement. We don't fraternize outside of the bedroom, remember?" She clarified as the elevator came up and she walked into it as Santana followed inside.

They stood there for a moment, and Santana glanced over at Quinn and pushed her against the elevator wall and kissed her hard, as Quinn kissed back just has forceful, pulling her closer. She bit down at her bottom lip, as Santana issued a small moan into her mouth. Santana groped Quinn's breasts over her shirt, forcing her to moan loudly and with a ding she pulled away and Santana walked out as soon as the doors opened, leaving Quinn slightly disheveled and breathtaking.

"Have a nice day Quinn," she waved behind her, strolling out of the sliding doors. Quinn's eyes were wide in utter shock, but she laughed somewhat at the situation and picked up her purse and walked out of the doors to her car.

**x.x.x.x.x**

That afternoon, Santana decided to take a stroll down to the local Mexican restaurant and pick up two separate orders and after receiving them, she walked down the street with the bag in tow to an upscale building. Santana's never done this before, so she knew she was going to get shit for it, but she clearly didn't seem to care. To be honest, she wasn't sure why she was trying so hard to spend time with Quinn outside of just sleeping together. She just wanted to have a full conversation with her about what she liked to do and just do them with her—was that too much to ask? Yes because it wasn't a part of their agreement.

Santana took the elevator up almost to the top and walked out seeing a woman at the front desk. The office was highly immaculate and full of glass, and of course employees. She stopped in front of the desk and placed the food on the top.

"Who are you delivering that for?" The woman asked, causing Santana to squint in confusion. Did she look like a delivery girl? That's when she remembered she walked in with Mexican food and people can just assume things.

"No I'm here to have lunch with Quinn Fabray," she concludes, causing the woman to do a double take in both directions, hoping someone else heard her.

She began to get frazzled—perhaps Quinn had this affect on people, where they want to scatter like little ants and she was the foot that will stomp on them. "Um…well yes of course; she's in her office. Down the hall, first door on the left," she stutters, pointing in the direction. Santana offers her a polite smile and a thank you as she walked off in the direction she was instructed. Unbeknownst to her the woman watched her leave clearly confused and even slightly fearful of the Latina, hoping she knew what she was getting herself into.

Santana stalked past the cubicles, turning some heads since people didn't recognize her, before she got to the door that read "Quinn Fabray" over it in bold letters. Santana knocked and when she heard a faint, but strong come in she did as she was told.

She walked in and shut the door behind her and when Quinn noticed who came in she sighed. "No, no leave now," she tells her, getting up from her chair to get ready to push Santana out.

"No, I brought lunch for you," she stands her ground and Quinn shakes her head.

"Why? Why are you trying to get me to eat with you now?" She asked flustered by the Latina's actions. She can't stand all the sudden rule breaking Santana was doing—it was irritating her.

"What? You're too busy to eat? And I just want to spend time with you," she tells her as Quinn grows more and more frustrated.

"Ugh! That's not part of the agreement we had," she hisses, whispering to her, in order to make sure no one else in the office could hear the exchange.

"Fuck the damn agreement! Just have lunch with me and talk, that's all I want right now, okay?" Santana tells her, forcing Quinn to groan in irritation. Santana opens the bag and Quinn takes a whiff of the aroma and groans—she brought her favorite; suddenly she was feeling hungry.

"Fine Santana, fine," she gives in as Santana hands her the order she got for her with a victorious smile. "Oh stop," she grumbles, taking it from her and sitting down back in her chair to eat it. Santana sits on the opposite side and opens her food, then begins eating.

"So tell me about yourself," Santana says, taking a mouthful into her mouth, looking up at Quinn, who is chewing, then swallows the contents.

"Like what?" She asks distantly, devouring her food as Santana shrugged.

"I don't know anything," she told her, making Quinn look up and smile almost innocently.

"You have to be more specific if you want to know anything," she tells her, forcing Santana to sigh and think for a moment.

"Okay, where are you from originally?" She shrugged.

"Ohio next," she answers quickly, making Santana laugh slightly, just by the way she answered.

"Okay and why are you in marketing?" Santana asked her, as Quinn leaned back in her chair, putting a napkin to her lips to wipe away any contents that may have been leftover.

"I don't know. I guess because it's interesting and because I know that I'm highly successful in it. You saw those cubicles outside, right? I was one of those people when I started. I work hard to get where I am and I keep my attitude up to show that nobody is going to stand in the way of making me even more successful in this company," she explained and to Santana's surprise, that was a hell of a lot more than she anticipated from the blonde, but she was thankful she responded the way she did.

Santana looked down for a moment, then back up at Quinn, who seemed to be waiting for her next question. "Why would you agree to be with me?" She pondered curiously to Quinn, who eyed her carefully—Santana just wanted to know what she was thinking.

"Well for one, we're not together—we're just sleeping together, there's a difference. But—Santana we've gone over this. You relieve a lot of the stress I'm under and it's easy just sleeping with you, even if you piss me the fuck off constantly," she tells her almost frustrated again. Santana knew she did all of those things for the blonde, but there still was that inkling of hope that she did more than that for her.

"Okay," she responded, nodding grabbing their empty containers and tossing them back in the bag. "I'll see you later Quinn," she tells her, grabbing the bag and as she was about to walk out, Quinn's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Santana," she turns around and faces Quinn, who was watching her from the chair. "I'm going on a retreat for work tomorrow in Boston. It's not far, but they do it every year, so—," Quinn was being around the bush again and Santana knew this, but she was hoping Quinn was asking her to come with her—she knew that was just wishful thinking though.

"So you'll be on your own for a week," Quinn tells her simply. Santana looks down at the doorknob for a moment and back up at the blonde, keeping her "unfazed smirk" on, to hide what's really going on inside her.

"I've been alone for the last four years. I'm sure I can handle a week without you," she exclaims, forcing Quinn to look down in her lap—almost hurt. "After all, we're not dating," she confirms, before walking out of the office.

**x.x.x.x.x**

Tuesday night. Santana sat on her couch bored out of her mind. Sometimes Quinn would call her to come over and she would jump right on it on Tuesday, but this was different because she was gone at her retreat. She didn't realize how much she truly missed being around the blonde now that she was gone—it was sickening to say the least. She needed her that badly and it's not even just for sex anymore. She needed her bad attitude. She needed her close to her. She needed just seeing her.

"Fuck," she breathed out. "Santana Lopez what you're about to do is going to be the most craziest thing you've ever done," she mumbled, before grabbing her jacket and running to her closet to pull something out and walk out of the apartment to drive to Boston.

After exactly four hours and seventeen minutes, and a broken down car later, she made it to Boston. She called the office to find out what hotel this retreat was being held at—thank god the answering machine had the hotel name on it. Santana stepped into the hotel and ran into the bathroom, placing a well fitted dress that complimented every curve and did her makeup as well as pulled her hair out of its pony. She flipped it a little bit and just ran her fingers through it until it looked nice enough for her to walk out.

Santana walked back out of the bathroom, fixing herself a little bit, then spotted the outside where the pool was located occupied by a bunch of people—she knew Quinn was there. Santana walked over to the party and looked around the area, to see them all conversing loudly.

She scanned the area finally finding Quinn dressed in, also a well fitted dress, only hers was teal and Santana's was black. She walked over to Quinn, who was speaking to someone. She didn't interrupt her though—she just let her speak to the man, giving him a fake laugh when he told a stupid joke—Santana noticed it; the man didn't.

The man then noticed Santana standing somewhat close to them and cleared his throat, signaling for Quinn to turn around and she obliged. Quinn's mouth gapped open in disbelief at the sight before her. For one, she's used to Santana wearing a simple shirt and jeans, now she's in a dress and she had to admit she looked absolutely breathtaking. Second, she was in utter disbelief that she drove four hours to see her.

"What are you doing here?" She finally got her voice back, staring up at Santana. She looked nervous and cold, but Quinn tried not to let that faze her.

"We've been at this for four months and I thought I could handle it, but I can't," Santana began, as tears threaten to spill over the brims of her eyes. "I can't just sleep with you and pretend that it doesn't mean anything anymore. I was sitting in my apartment tonight and all I could think about was you—just about how much I missed you and that I'd be with you at that moment if you weren't here," Santana continued, walking closer to her and by this time the man was gone—it was just them.

"You irritate me. You make me so fucking angry, but it still doesn't change the fact that I want to be with you. It doesn't change that I'd rather have no boundaries and that when I say I'm in love with you, you won't push me away," Santana tells her as her tears flow down her cheek. Quinn continues to look at her, blinking a few times to hide the fact that she's also about to cry. This girl is pouring her heart out to her and she doesn't know if she can respond back.

"Santana, I told you I'm better off being alone," she whispered to her, looking away and down at her drink in hand.

"But do you honestly believe that you want to be alone forever? I'm here to tell you that I can be that person for you. Granted yes, I'm a bartender that can make five hundred dollars a night, working two nights a week on a good weekend. I live in a rundown apartment in the fucking boonies and my car breaks down every two hundred miles. I have nothing valuable to offer you, but beside that—I can make you happy," she explains to her, forcing Quinn to shake her head to basically tell her no.

"Santana I can't—my job is important to me, and I'm sorry you have feelings for me, so if you can't disregard them, then we'll just end this now," Quinn is firm, causing Santana to shake her head, getting more and more frustrated with each word she spoke.

"You're infuriating Quinn! You keep telling me you can't do this, giving me stupid cop out excuses as to why you don't want to be with me, yet you haven't once mentioned that you just don't feel the same way as I do," Santana yells to her, causing attention to be turned to them. "Before me your vibrator was probably your best friend and made your stress go away, but that loneliness still hung on to you. I came along and I rid you of that. I know I piss you off because I'm the only one that has the fucking balls to stand up to you, but that's what we do Quinn. We piss each other off, but it's what brings out that fire between us.

"Your job is important to you, I get that probably better than most people and I wouldn't ever stand in the way of that, but I know you fucking love me as much as I love you, so stop trying to make up any more excuses to prove me wrong," She tells to her, forcing tears to fall from Quinn's eyes that she tried desperately keep from being shed. She knew her coworkers were eyeing the exchange and were probably surprised by the fact that Quinn Fabray is actually human.

"Prove me wrong Quinn. Tell me you don't love me," Santana says, holding her arms out wide, ready to take the hit, if it came. Quinn ends up breaking down and the blow doesn't come, so Santana just turns to look at the people who were watching them and apologizes for the scene and walks off. Quinn hears this and looks up just as Santana stalked out of the area, leaving Quinn to strut after her.

She finds Santana in the lobby, walking towards the doors exit of the hotel, so she runs after her in her heels. Catching up to her, she turns Santana around and pushes her against the granite wall and forces her lips on hers, not even caring that some guests and employees were watching the entire thing. Santana kissed back instantly, grabbing a hold of her hips and was the first to pull away, much to her dismay.

"I love you," Quinn whispers. "You irritate the shit out of me, and as much as I wanted to believe I didn't start have feelings for you, I couldn't deny it. I hated that I loved you," she tells her, forehead to forehead.

"I know what you mean," Santana breathed out, making Quinn laugh genuinely and wrap her arms around her neck, leaning back in to kiss her lightly.

"I lied to you about one thing though," Quinn pulled away, pointing to her, causing Santana to eye her in confusion. "I did cuddle to you, even though we weren't supposed to," she added, making Santana laugh—even though she already knew that, but she wasn't going to give herself the satisfaction of an "I told you so".

She leaned in and captured her lips with her own, then pulled away just enough to speak. "That's okay," she stated. They continued this little exchange of kisses and talking in front of the entrance/exit, before finally deciding on going up to Quinn's hotel room and continuing it elsewhere. But all in all, they knew their relationship was most definitely not going to be perfect—in fact far from, but they had each other to keep the other in check and regardless of their financial statures being on totally different spectrums, Quinn loved Santana and Santana loved Quinn—even if they originally hated it.

_End._


End file.
